Low
by Oni No Yami Chan
Summary: Bruce has gotten low again and, convinced the Avengers have forgotten him, gets a surprising call in the middle of the night.


It had been such a long time since he'd cried that hard. Bruce tried not to make a habit of curling up in his bathtub, fully clothed, violently sobbing into his knees, but he couldn't help himself.

This was a few months after the Avengers went their separate ways. Though Bruce took up Tony's offer and went with him to work at Stark Industries, that didn't change much of anything. He was still lonely. He was still a monster. And he still had to take frequent breaks from his work to make sure that he didn't smash anything.

Tonight was a bad night for him. He hadn't been this low since… Well, since he put a bullet in his mouth. He looked around him a moment, wondering what time it was idly before giving up and putting his forehead back to his knees. What did it matter? Tony didn't bother him as long as he came and did some work every once in a while, so it wasn't as though he'd come looking for him. Pepper had been supportive of Bruce since he started working there, but even she tended to keep her distance. As for everyone else…

Bruce hadn't had a doubt that Tony was genuine about not being afraid of him. The billionaire wasn't one to beat around the bush about anything, and though he did seem like a liar that was one thing he didn't believe Tony to lie about often. Natasha and Clint had gone back to work for SHIELD and Bruce hadn't heard from either in a long time. Thor was worlds away, and Steve was still getting used to being… Not in the 1940s.

Bruce didn't blame any of them for not checking on him. He wouldn't have wanted to, either, and he was sure they were busy. Rubbing his shoulder, hard, Bruce finally decided it was time to get up and get to bed. He wasn't sure if it was morning or night, but a cold, damp bathroom wasn't the place to be when you were that low.

Just as Bruce was stepping into the living room to head into his bedroom, the phone rang. A look at the clock on the wall told him it was only about nine o'clock, not a bad time for someone to call, but he really didn't want anyone hearing that his nose was stuffed up from crying. So he let it ring out.

"_Hey, you've reached Bruce Banner,_" his answering machine cheerily stated. Leaning against the doorway between the living room and the hallway to the bedrooms and bathroom, Bruce smiled a little. He always sounded chipper for everyone else. "_I'm sorry I can't get to your call, but please leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can._"

There was a beep and afterward a long, silent pause. Bruce waited for whoever it was to begin their message or hang up, but after almost twenty seconds they still hadn't spoken. He began to wonder if maybe it was another person leaving him a nasty message about him being a beast when suddenly a voice spoke up.

"_Oh! I… I think I'm supposed to talk now._" Bruce blinked at Steve's voice on the answering machine. What was he doing calling so late? "_Hey… Hi, Bruce. It's Steve. Rogers. Uh… Captain America. Well, you probably would just call me Steve._" There was a bit of shuffling around in the background. "_Listen, uh… I… I'm sorry it took so long for me to call. I wasn't quite sure how to use this thing, these phones are a lot different, you know?_"

A small, sad smile spread over Bruce's lips as he listened to Steve stuttering and mumbling uncertainly. This certainly didn't sound like the calm, confident man that Bruce had gone into battle with.

Steve took in a deep breath and sighed it out before stating, "_Bruce… Tony and I… We're worried about you. He says you haven't been to work in a few days, and… And we just wanted… _I _just wanted to know if you were alright."_

Bruce stood silent, staring at the phone in shock. Tony had noticed his absence from work? He told Steve about it? Steve was worried about him? His head was spinning and he slowly slid down the doorframe, listening numbly to the rest of the message.

"_I really am sorry that I haven't talked to you lately. I… Miss you. I mean… Miss being… Around you. Could you just… Could you please call me? Bruce? I… Dammit,"_ he swore, softly, taking in a few deep breaths. "_Bruce, please pick up if you're there, I keep thinking about what you said on the airship and it's making me nervous. Please don't give up, we care about you, Tony, Clint, Tasha, Thor, all of us, we do, so please don't gi_—"

The answering machine innocently beeped, telling it was the end of the message. Steve had talked for far too long. Bruce watched the phone, waiting for him to call back and leave the rest. After a few minutes he figured Steve wouldn't be calling back, so he shakily got to his feet and turned to go to bed when suddenly the phone began to ring again.

This time Bruce hurried over and picked up.

"Hello?"

There was a pause again. "_Bruce?_" Steve asked, sounding worried.

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry, I was… In the shower the first time you called," Bruce lied, twisting the cord of the phone around his finger, nervously.

"_Oh! Oh gosh, I'm really sorry,_" Steve began. "_Did… You hear my message?_"

Bruce nodded a little. "A bit of it… I walked in just as you were finishing."

There was a long, awkward pause between them. "_Bruce, are you busy right now?_" Steve suddenly asked.

Surprised, Bruce looked up at the clock. It was almost nine fifteen, a bit late to be doing anything, at least by Steve's standards. "I… No, I'm not. Why do you ask?"

"_I really need to see you. Would you mind if I swung by?_"

Bruce's heart pounded in his chest. Why was he being so adamant about this? "You… Need to?" he repeated, softly.

"_Yes, I do. Tonight. Please, Bruce…"_

After a bit of nervous thinking, Bruce whispered, "Yes... Yes, you can… You can come over…"

Steve let out a sigh of relief. "_I'll be right there, Bruce. It'll only be a few minutes, just… Just wait for me, okay?_"

"Okay…" Bruce answered, his voice barely audible. Steve hung up, but Bruce was gripping the phone too hard and he couldn't put it down until several minutes later when the automated voice told him for the seventh time that he needed to hang up if he wanted to make another call. Only minutes after he managed to hang up the phone a knock came at the door.

Slowly, Bruce approached and opened the door, smiling a little at Steve standing outside. "Hey," he stated, stepping aside for the captain.

His blond hair was plastered to his forehead and Steve hurriedly stepped into the house, looking around him as though there were something he needed to find, and fast. He did a quick sweep as Bruce closed the door, watching him carefully. "Did you… Run over here?" he asked, uncertainly. Steve only nodded as he continued his search, peeking into the bathroom and both bedrooms before coming back over to Bruce. "Steve, what..?"

Steve gripped Bruce's shoulders, shaking him very slightly. "You have a phone! You have a cell phone! Why didn't you call?" he demanded, staring hard into Bruce's eyes.

"I…" Bruce stared back at Steve, eyes wide and nervous.

"Tony and I have been worried sick, we didn't hear a thing from you! I… I thought…" Steve bit his lip, falling silent for a few moments before pulling Bruce into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. "We thought the worst had happened," he breathed against Bruce's ear. "We thought… You gave up…"

Bruce, hands shaking, slowly hugged Steve back. "No… I… I couldn't if I wanted to… The Other Guy…"

Frustrated, Steve snapped, "I don't care about him!" Bruce fell silent again, feeling hot tears sting the corners of his eyes. "I don't care if he's the reason you don't try, it doesn't mean you haven't been thinking about it. Bruce, don't you get it? That's bad enough, that you're getting low again!" He pulled away from the other, studying him. "Have you eaten?" When Bruce didn't answer he demanded, "When was the last time you ate?"

"I… I don't remember," Bruce murmured, shamefully, staring down at his feet.

With a frustrated sigh, Steve pulled Bruce into the kitchen, sitting him down at the island before beginning to cook him something. He didn't speak as he pulled out ingredients and cut, grated and cooked, he didn't even look at Bruce. Bruce couldn't help feeling like a school child who'd been scolded, so he sat silent in his chair, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

"Here," Steve finally said, setting a plate in front of Bruce. The smell caused Bruce's stomach to complain loudly. He hadn't had an appetite in several days, let alone actually eating.

Though he felt rude doing it Bruce dug in without saying anything, clearing the whole plate while Steve sat and watched him. It wasn't until Bruce was nearly done that he glanced up and noticed Steve was smiling slightly at him. Swallowing the forkful he currently had in his mouth, Bruce mumbled, "Sorry… Thank you, Steve, it's delicious…"

Steve didn't answer at first, but finally he spoke. "Do you know why I was so worried?"

This caused Bruce to pause for a brief moment. He honestly had no clue, and he couldn't even hazard a guess. After a few silent moments of pondering, he shook his head slightly. "No… Sorry, I don't… I don't really understand why you got so upset…"

Letting out a small, impatient sigh, Steve leaned forward a little, waiting for Bruce to meet his gaze. "It's because you're my friend."

Even though Bruce knew that, he cocked his head to the side a bit. "You called at nine at night and ran over here to cook me dinner because… I'm your friend?" he asked, uncertainly.

Steve sighed again, running a hand down his face in mild frustration. "That's… Not what I meant," he admitted, awkwardly. "Bruce… Bruce, look at me," the soldier pleaded, Bruce carefully bringing his gaze back up. He raised an eyebrow in an, 'I'm listening' fashion before Steve managed to continue.

"Back when we first started as a team," he began, pausing carefully. "No one really thought that the Other Guy would be willing or able to help us. Only Tony. And when you said that, in the helicarrier, when we were all fighting," Steve had to pause again, sighing heavily. "When you said you'd tried to kill yourself, it made me realize just how human you are. And just how hard it is for you to be… You."

Bruce listened carefully, taking another forkful of his dish into his mouth. Chewing carefully, he nodded for Steve to keep going.

It took a few moments for Steve to choose his words, but when he did he looked at Bruce with determination in his eyes. "And I vowed that I wouldn't ever allow you to feel that way again. I wanted to ensure that you had a good life and that you didn't regret anything starting from our team-up."

Blinking in surprise, Bruce set his fork down. "That's kind of you, Steve. But I'm alright. There's really no need for any of you to worry." A blatant lie, of course, and Steve saw right through it.

"You love the lab. You love working. And Tony loves having you around, he treats you like you're a person, which you are," Steve pointed out. "So when you stopped going to work, Tony took note. He didn't just ignore the fact that you were gone and wave it off, he was the most worried."

"Was he?" Bruce asked, almost boredly. Somehow he didn't completely believe that.

Steve nodded. "Yes, he was."

Bruce raised his eyes to the Captain's. "Then why did you come and not him?"

The question caused Steve to fall silent for a few long moments before he awkwardly answered, "Because… We're a team. And he shouldn't be the only one to lift your spirits when you're getting low. It isn't fair to him, or to you. And… Because I do care about you, Bruce."

Silence fell between them again, and Bruce watched Steve, waiting for a moment when he'd crack and run away or just admit to it all being a lie. But Steve met his gaze, waiting for a response. And after a while, relief swept over Bruce. His shoulders slumped slightly, he let go of his fake smile, looking up at Steve with a very tired gaze. "I wasn't going to do it," he whispered. "But I did think about it. And I'm sorry."

Steve watched him before smiling slightly, reaching a hand out to pat Bruce's arm. "Next time I'll swing by sooner. The least I can do is feed you, right?" Though he still looked a little upset and nervous about the idea of Bruce getting so low, Steve didn't back down. He hadn't lied. He was a good man, and he really did want to help Bruce.

When that realization hit him, Bruce couldn't help but give the other a genuine smile. "Steve… Thank you," he murmured.

"Don't mention it," Steve answered with a small smile, standing. As Steve got up, taking the dishes to the sink to wash them, he shrugged one shoulder. "You were right… About us being a time bomb. Any one of us could go off any day. This is why we have to do stuff like this and help each other out. Even though we're a time bomb, we're also more of a team than anyone realizes."

The more he thought about it, the more Bruce realized he was right. "If you need anything," Bruce quickly began but Steve waved him off.

"If I need anything, I'll tell you. But right now, you're the top priority of this team," he admitted with a smile.

And that assurance alone was enough to make Bruce relaxed and calm for the entire evening.


End file.
